


lost when you look into my blue eyes

by k0skareeves



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dry Humping, F/M, Lapdance, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27980595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k0skareeves/pseuds/k0skareeves
Summary: A man owns a nightclub. A girl owns his heart.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 39
Kudos: 143





	lost when you look into my blue eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SansaRegina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansaRegina/gifts), [willowycreature](https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowycreature/gifts).



> To Mani and Yulia, who have both been very patient and supportive during these hard times. I love you a lot <3

Saturday night.

A girl is dancing.

A man is watching.

Her body moves along with the beat of the songs playing on the speakers. Her eyes are closed, her skin is sweaty, her long red hair is swaying back and forth. She’s glowing, brighter than any of her friends, her presence making her the most watched person in the room. They all want her, yet no one dares to get too close.

They know she’s taken.

The man shifts on his seat, discreetly adjusting his pants. They feel like a prison to him, too tight around his hardness. This whole night feels like a prison, and watching the girl dance is the most sweet kind of torture. He takes a sip of his drink, feels the whiskey burnin down his throat, grey eyes never leaving her, watching as the pink silk of her dress clings to her curves while she moves.

The song ends and a new one begins, a slower, more sensual beat coming through the speakers. The man knows what’s about to happen. He finishes his drink, the whiskey burning through his body, tingling on his lips, and places the empty glass on the round table next to him. As if summoned, the girl turns her face to the man, blue eyes watching him, a smile at the corner of her mouth. Piercing blue eyes, eyes that he often dreams about. He could get lost in those eyes if allowed. He could get lost in her, and he will gladly do so  _ later. _

Right now, a girl stops dancing and a man is watching.

She starts walking towards him, not minding her friends on the dance floor who attempt to call her name, only to go back dancing once they see where she’s heading. The room’s atmosphere changs, all waiting for their meeting. Everyone knows the man has been tense all night, restless. It’s always like this, and the only way he can relax is when the girl is with him. _ His _ girl, as they all know.

What they don’t know is that he belongs to her just as well, even more so.

She reaches him, wasting no time, straddling his thighs, her center pressing down on his hardness. His hands go instantly to her waist, keeping her there, and when she kisses him, hot and heavy, he has no choice but to surrender. She can easily undo him, work him as she pleases, so much so that his hands drop to her ass, pressing her more firmly against him despite the fact that they're in a crowded nightclub surrounded by people.

She starts grinding on him, moving her hips to the beat of the song, her tongue soft inside his mouth, her moans low and needy. When she bites his lip it takes him all his willpower to grab her ass more firmly, stopping her movements all together as he groans.

_ "Sansa." _

"What?"

Their lips are pressed together, her fingers tangled on his curls. He feels her body everywhere, and his pants are a tight prison, his erection begging to be released.

"I already told you you can't do that."

She kisses him again, cutting him off, then whispers. "I can do whatever the fuck I want."

The girl lifts herself from his lap, only to start dancing. It's slow, deliberate, and she grazes against his thighs, flashes a cheeky smile at him, touches her own body as if she's experiencing a transcendent type of pleasure. The man keeps his hands to himself, eyes on her, trapped. His patience is wearing thin and yet he keeps still, lets her do whatever she wants, lets everyone else watch her, until the song changes again and she's back on his lap, body warm and sweaty, and all he wants to do is lick her until she screams.

"Are you done now?" He asks her while she kisses his chin, scratching her nose with his beard.

"Do you want me to be done?"

He puts his hand on her thigh, fingers moving up and under the hem of her dress, tracing her heat with his knuckles. His other hand grabs at the base of her neck, making her gasp. "I want to take you home and kiss that sweet little cunt of yours."

She whines.  _ "Jon." _

"What?"

"People are watching."

"So?" He asks, fingers still moving through the lace of her panties, feeling how hot and ready she is. He wants nothing more than to be inside her, to feel her walls clenching around him, but for now he'll settle for torturing her just as sweetly as she tortures him. "You like it when they watch."

Her voice is breathless. "So do you."

He does. He enjoys knowing that they all want her, they all watch her, but she's his. He enjoys knowing that they all see how he drives her mad with his touches, all see him do things to her that they can only dream of doing. It's a possessive thought, a wrong one maybe, but he still enjoys it.

"I do." He tells her, voice steady and harsh. "But I like fucking you more. Which is why I'm taking you home now."

He says it against her lips, fingers still pressing at her heat. She groans, shimmies a little under his hold and kisses him again, slow, hot, her tongue taking the time to explore his mouth, her fingers twisting and pulling on his hair until he groans from pain and pleasure.

"Three more songs and we go."

Her blue eyes are staring back at him, piercing and wanting and pure, a real plea in them, a simple one too. He caves, because there's no denying her, not today and not ever.

He moves his hand to her face, tracing her lips with his thumb. "Alright." 

She smiles, bright, honest and cheeky, because that's her, and he loves it. He watches as she goes back to the dance floor, moving along with her friends, and he signals the bartender for another drink. One more glass of whiskey and three more songs. He smiles to himself, eyes never leaving her, and she looks back at him for a moment, blowing him a kiss with her hand. 

She has him wrapped around her finger and she knows it, just as he does.

They belong to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! comments are always appreciated xxxxxx


End file.
